Somewhere they won't look...in the shade

Exploration of Conspiracy Theories from Perspective of Esoteric Traditions

Moderator: yorick

Somewhere they won't look...in the shade

Postby mach1 » Sun Nov 14, 2004 7:23 am

Hey girl,

They tell me I can’t write to you. Can’t come around your house or visit your store. Phone you or send you
a fax. How about an email? Well, I don’t want to take the chance. Understand this, I don’t do this because
someone phones me up to me to tell me what I do is illegal. If that were true I wouldn’t have done any of
it. Being homeless is not a crime. Nor is being in love or being lonely. Which of those three was ever I?
Anyway. I don’t dare because I never meant to cause you any discomfort or stress in the first place.

So let’s be fair. I get my self into more trouble for not expressing my self than I do if I don’t. And no one is
going to stop me from expressing what I feel.

It doesn’t matter if it goes into a book, a story, a painting or a picture or a photo or a song or a film. The
urge and desire to create is something often misunderstood and undervalued in contemporary society.

It's always been that way. Vincent Van Gogh as a vaunted example. His works were never appreciated in
his day while his feet were on the earth and while his brush touched the canvas. Only after he died was
he recognized.

I’ll cut it short…

I just had a few things to say so I thought I might as well write. My only last hope being that somehow this
message can find its way to you.

I wanted to say that I was sorry. It’s probably necessary for me to grow as a person. But lets look at it like
this. It would be hard for me to try and truly move on left with the thought that even something as effusive
to grasp as a concept as a virtual relationship is something that can’t be appreciated for what its worth.

What do things mean after they are gone? In this sense, the click of one page to another, the deletion of
an email lend them a sense of impermanence and so then does this mean that they are by design of
delivery that easy to forget?

Or should be? How do we attach value to such non-tangible concepts?

Yet we are always dialed in. Plugged in. No escape from wires of communication. Fax by email, text by
phone, VoiP, what does it all matter? Here in the world of the web, a new concept is born. That of being
first acquainted with the net first, then meeting someone via the net we think we never would have met
prior without it. Someone new.

Yet one ends and the other continues. An online relationship fails. The net is not like any other medium.
Around every corner on the web navigated, around every twisted turn, we still don’t forget. Although the
terrain is all new and virtual, we navigate intuitively groping in the dark for something that feels familiar.

Then out there in the “real” world what do we see? Every other advertisement whether its radio, TV or
print or word of mouth or bumper sticker or sign is begging for a
few seconds from us to commit to
memory another URL we have to visit when we have the time.

And then there’s the news itself. Stories about computers and the Internet often make the news and
sometimes just not in the Tech Section. It’s ubiquitous. From the travel pages to automotive. And then
there’s the TV news. More and more switching between monitors and news clips to show off or
demonstrate a point vis a vis an on-line site. (Filming directly with cameras,
the flickering monitor effect kicks in and we see scanning lines)

So how should I end this?

By saying I am sorry? Well maybe you don’t need to hear that as much as I feel the need to say it.

Having a quasi email relationship with you wasn’t that bad. I guess I just wished I knew what it all meant
to you. Somehow. Some way. I know it went off the rails and I bear the blame. But? You might forgive me
but what if I never end up forgiving my self?

On my last leg! Here I am..I ask you one last thing: can we start over
fresh and anew? From the start of
where we were? The Internet is a brand new tool. Unregulated. We make mistakes along the way. I am
human and I make mistakes. Aren't you glad? For what its worth, I'm sorry the way things ended the way
they did but I am not sorry I ever met you on-line.

I know what’s true. Their trues I’ll never meet another girl like you.
That I may have to yet realize how I blew my
chance will take me some getting used to but if you want me to I will.

Every time I hear this song on the radio I think of you. Every line and every vocal tune seems to speak to
me personally. So what if I call the radio station and say please dedicate
this song to so and so? What if you don’t hear it?
It’s the same thing here: what if I post this message and you don’t read
it?

The fact that I took some time to do some things meant I valued your friendship. And I’m sorry I ruined it.
I’m so sorry. You know you’re part of the reason I thought the net was so cool. It still is. But no where
nearly as much as when it was cool with you for me to write.

So just as long as you know that as long as we are both passing through this world, some of it online
and some not, I may as will tell you: some of it meant something
to me. And I hope it means
something enough to you to remember me when you hear this song..


    The Reason

    I'm not a perfect person
    As many things I wish I didn't do
    But I continue learning
    I never meant to do those things to you
    And so I have to say before I go
    That I just want you to know

    I've found a reason for me
    To change who I used to be
    A reason to start over new
    and the reason is you

    I'm sorry that I hurt you
    It's something I must live with everyday
    And all the pain I put you through
    I wish that I could take it all away
    And be the one who catches all your tears
    Thats why I need you to hear

    I've found a reason for me
    To change who I used to be
    A reason to start over new
    and the reason is You [x4]

    I'm not a perfect person
    I never meant to do those things to you
    And so I have to say before I go
    That I just want you to know

    I've found a reason for me
    To change who I used to be
    A reason to start over new
    and the reason is you

    I've found a reason to show
    A side of me you didn't know
    A reason for all that I do
    And the reason is you
mach1
Postus Allthefuckingtimeus
 
Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby mach1 » Sat Dec 11, 2004 11:11 am

Hey girl,

Been almost a month and I havent heard from you still.
Shall I take that to be a strong hint you have given up
on me?

Dont worry, I know what you must think.

Like hmh, Hoobastank. What a swell bunch of kids.

Well even Wayne Gretzsky once looked like he was part of
a grunge band so what can I say. Even.

Sure it’s a good piece of music but it doesn't have a necessarily
timeless quality. Well on 2nd thought maybe it does. No I'm not
trying to knock it or put it down. Maybe I'm just saying it’s not
enough. It’s sort of “light” if you know what I mean. Fluffy. But
no I wouldnt retract a word. I guess if it came down to it you
could say that it'll do. Suffice. For the moment where things
appeared at the time they did. It’s always a little difficult living
out vicariously someone elses 'moment of truth'.

I should expect more though from my self. Here’s one from my
own scratch pad on the assemblage of unpackaged chaos that
interrupts the uniformity of my life (Thank God) that I give freely
to wash up like flotsam and jetsam on some long forgotten shore
of the world wide web..like it'll wash up somewhere else and then
I can call that my : pay. Payback. No, wait, what am I crazy? No,
just tired. Very. .

_`-`-``~-`-`--`~


Someone once said that even a collection of a random assortment
of items can contain a certain grain of truth. Or something like that.
I think it was a film maker. But I wish I had marked down his
exact words. Because now I am too tired to remember them.


----



Send email: transmit fax: leave voice message
Painting color schemes on a dial pad
Trying to create musical notes with a computer
keyboard
Writing watercolored landscapes on a black and white newspapered canvas
Why so hopeless...when words fail
Music transcends...so I have no words
Only a volition of my will
An ephemeral soulful massage like vibe encapsulated and wrapped; ensconsed, cocooned.. in feeling disguised as a formless sentient transversal of nothingness spread and sped across the universe that bounces back and hits upon return...just a feeling I guess.

That I hope gets to you. Certain events make me this reflective.
Indulging in moments like this is stretching the universe like an elastic and shooting it across the room still.

Fun for just a while longer till it leaves you still wanting.

But your voice. I knew it. I knew from the trail of my words that echoed unspoken that a truth was seeking to be sought. Somehow someway all along I knew I could never say what was left to be said to the blank of canvas space. I waited for it instead. For the time to arrive where it could take place. Somewhere I lost one of those precious moments in time I think. My quest is probably all about its recovery. Whether it’s actually recovered or not is not important. In tandem keeping with the thought that a journey being more important than the destination.

I get carried away with my own thinking sometimes.
Thinking things like: love should be grand and on a mythical scale
or be nothing at all. Just a thought. Funny how the dips and scales in life reveal to me that at least part of that is true: sometimes it really is nothing at all. But isn’t that kind of disproven everyday by the sheer number of people, blessed may they be, …who have coupled already? Who don’t share that sentiment about love at all?

And there’s no arguing with that. When you finally get tired of me getting the last word in all the time...trying to hook you with that 'famous' last line. Write me.

The event? The event that precipitated this inward dive? Ahh, nothin'. Just a silly movie. After watching all the news and violence of the day..its worth it just to think...man, were still here,,,they’re still here..and at least here we are talking. Its not what everyone does and it shows. Too much.

You know that old hackneyed saying that used to be a popular press idiom: war of the sexes’ or even ‘battle of the sexes’ if you like…its such an insult not only to men and women who have fought in wars or suffered as casualties of it. And to men women and children who are casualties of it today. It belittles the realities of their situations while aggrandizing our own petty disputes and misunderstandings. It subtracts from their harsh realities and shifts it to our own….which by stretches viewed by them they that suffer far worse must be absolutely paradisical. This in turn must make us apathetic, ignorant and unknowing or blind to the suffering of others while being caught up in the trip wires and entanglements largely of our doing.
It does nothing to assauge their pain and suffering. Shutting ones eyes and holding them tightly shut is no solution. Somebody somewhere along the way thought relationships were absolutely everything. Meant positively everything. Were life saving things. Granted, yet somehow this self-absorption and obsession with relationships led to a delineation and sideline of human compassion and obliterated the view of what happens at the outskirts of our Western civilized lives.

The movie I watched was 'The Clearing'with Robert Redford. Very mature theme for a very mature actor. This old meets new clash can still make me discordant. Here’s one segment...a scene from a movie, here’s another segment.. a page from a book..and here’s another ..the actual internet itself
pardoning me to hark and begging me for my time.

It almost seemed like some plain theatric translucence occurred on screen because.. Robert Redford, now having lived a full and hopefully satisfying life portraying characters on screen may be at the point where he gets to be deservedly reflective and can either choose or create roles that allow for that alternating sense of satisfaction/dissatisfaction to purposely shine through.

To me it almost seemed like a love letter and ode and personal crossover from the realm of the nominally pretentious role of Hollywood to even-sell branded emotions so as to spin stories and tell tales…as opposed to giving reign to artistry with un-commercialistic mass appeal…to the intensely personal and private world of a mans true emotions where vulnerability reaches an apex.

After all if you have acted all your life, where do you ever find your redemption? This is the man who practically revolutionized and spawned single handedly the Independent Film industry. Gave it a starting point, nursed it, gave it strength and gave it a home. All hands on deck for the man who almost never made it as a thespian in the first place! Who once almost walked out on acting classes it was so tough yet turned on his heel to stay in it right at that moment where it seemed easiest and most opportune to give up.

I am now disappearing away into the long cold dead remote and exasperating sigh of night.

shelve that book, bookmark that page, pause this VCR, and dream away...seems I cant wait to tell you certain things...too impossible to say so as to disjar, upset and discombobulate the electrons of the internet and tilt their uniformed assemblage and presentation...yet with no
internet...we wouldn’t have ever met..and would I have even dreamed such things as meeting someone like you? If not, doesn’t that make me a fool for thinking I could ever find them on-line and not ‘out there’ instead? Sometimes I wonder..if I traded in everything I wanted in life....traded it in for the want of a click of a mouse. Except nobody has kidnapped me. No one has held me for ransom. But maybe like many others I am held hostage to my own desires though?

I still have that book I want to write. The screen play I want to pen. Time is NOT wasting.

But this is like my ad. The small blurb. If it doesn’t show up here...eventually, nevermind. Do you really want to know? What I miss?

Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

Time is not wasting. It’s waiting. But hell I won’t do it. I won’t give everything I hold dear over to the quick and easiness of the Internet. It still has that quality about it still. Prying eyes mean prying minds. And pried lives leave little leftover to be enjoyed. It has to make it to that delectable unassailably rich printed page first. The Internet can wait. For now. Hopefully, judging by the way you write to me it doesn’t mean forever. But it might. Going back in time now. Going long and going deep as if there were any other way.

Later...

---

CNN: Does involving yourself in social issues go hand-in-hand with being a filmmaker, an artist?

REDFORD: Well, yeah it does. It can also be abused. ... I think you have to be careful with that because film is a very powerful medium, and it can be easily abused, so I don't think propaganda works very well.

But on the other hand if you use a fundamental element, just a great story, it can be people in a kitchen in Beirut. They never have to leave that kitchen, and you can tell a very wonderful story, and you can get the whole picture and how they're living, and what the abuses are in their lives
.


--

No it doesnt matter if you read this, she reads this or it gets tossed in the trash. The people that need to know the story, know it. But mines my own, whatever worth I attach to it, what it means to other people...what they say...in the end may never matter. Whats important is I do this for my self. Life can be such a crap shoot sometimes its unbearable. So unbearable we are forced to seek truth.

--


One of the prevalent themes of The Clearing, which deals with class and privilege, is the fracturing ethos of the so-called American Dream. Here is a story about a self-made man, his public, versus his private, self. Redford dodges discussing parallels between the character and actor, but says that the film reflects a collision of the two American dreams, "his and mine, colliding and then where's the truth? My character was a character adrift. Sometimes you can have success and you work so hard on the basic American dream, but you're not aware of the sacrifices and losses that are occurring along the way." In some way, The Clearing becomes a comment on the nature of celebrity in relation to the American Dream, about which Redford can obviously identify. "I've been interested in much of my career, with the American dream and the ethic of what's achievement, what's success, undersize that and celebrity comes into that," Redford adds.
Ride the Walrus
mach1
Postus Allthefuckingtimeus
 
Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby mach1 » Wed Dec 22, 2004 11:11 pm

    A thousand and one dreams in the cup of my hand
    Clutched hard like shards of glass
    The wounds sting and penetrate my soul
    Long after time has sheared away the pain
    Scars rendered invisible
    by the march of time
    Assauge not the indelible stamp on fires
    long lost fiery breath
    Carried away by ambition
    Idylic dreams
    All things that shine
    All that glitters is gold
    All ring and sing their chimes
    Lost in the string of time
    Found and ravaged by the riptide
    ....of loves crueller edge so
    reserved for lost and lovelorn lovers
    Cheated friends torn with neglect
    Leave it all at the way side
    remains of a wasted bet
mach1
Postus Allthefuckingtimeus
 
Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby mach1 » Thu Dec 23, 2004 12:01 am

    But the shine of the sun blazes through
    As precious illusions reveal their worth
    Shining through pine needles, hotter than summer
    Arousing aspens fragrant scent
    from within memories embedded deep
    Carelessly I ponder my confusion
    Retracing my steps
    Reading old notes and emailed letters
    Hope an ephemal thing
    Frozen
    Like a penny beneath the ice
    In a pond in at the center of winters raw
    My certainty crushed
    By the fist of a fate blind
    Something lost in time
    A moment
    An excuse
    A reason
    Give me anything
    but the ignorance that wastes away
    my quest for knowing
    And reduces my chances
    To nothing
    Nothing to live for
    Nothing to die for
    Nothing to breathe for
    But it's all I have
    From what I gave
    All or almost all
    But I never died until yesterday
    The day before you
    made me see such things
    In such a brand new light
    Here I am wasted, a victim of chance
    No longer in the running
    Without a torch
    Without a light
    Without a fight
    Carnage, collateral damage....
    From your own quest
    The one that vanquished me
    Destroyed the shield I
    thought protected thee
    raised for my self not
    Thats why the pain indentures me
Image
mach1
Postus Allthefuckingtimeus
 
Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby mach1 » Mon Jan 10, 2005 6:39 am

Author Message
mach Posted: Thu Dec 23, 2004 12:01 am Post subject:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But the shine of the sun blazes through
As precious illusions reveal their worth
Shining through pine needles, hotter than summer
Arousing aspens fragrant scent
from within memories embedded deep
Carelessly I ponder my confusion
Retracing my steps
Reading old notes and emailed letters
Hope an ephemal thing
Frozen
Like a penny beneath the ice
In a pond in at the center of winters raw
My certainty crushed
By the fist of a fate blind
Something lost in time
A moment
An excuse
A reason
Give me anything
but the ignorance that wastes away
my quest for knowing
And reduces my chances
To nothing
Nothing to live for
Nothing to die for
Nothing to breathe for
But it's all I have
From what I gave
All or almost all
But I never died until yesterday
The day before you
made me see such things
In such a brand new light
Here I am wasted, a victim of chance
No longer in the running
Without a torch
Without a light
Without a fight
Carnage, collateral damage....
From your own quest
The one that vanquished me
Destroyed the shield I
thought protected thee
raised for my self not
Thats why the pain indentures me



mach Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2004 11:11 pm Post subject:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A thousand and one dreams in the cup of my hand
Clutched hard like shards of glass
The wounds sting and penetrate my soul
Long after time has sheared away the pain
Scars rendered invisible
by the march of time
Assauge not the indelible stamp on fires
long lost fiery breath
Carried away by ambition
Idylic dreams
All things that shine
All that glitters is gold
All ring and sing their chimes
Lost in the string of time
Found and ravaged by the riptide
....of loves crueller edge so
reserved for lost and lovelorn lovers
Cheated friends torn with neglect
Leave it all at the way side
remains of a wasted bet


mach Posted: Sat Dec 11, 2004 11:11 am Post subject:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey girl,

Been almost a month and I havent heard from you still.
Shall I take that to be a strong hint you have given up
on me?

Dont worry, I know what you must think.

Like hmh, Hoobastank. What a swell bunch of kids.

Well even Wayne Gretzsky once looked like he was part of
a grunge band so what can I say. Even.

Sure it’s a good piece of music but it doesn't have a necessarily
timeless quality. Well on 2nd thought maybe it does. No I'm not
trying to knock it or put it down. Maybe I'm just saying it’s not
enough. It’s sort of “light” if you know what I mean. Fluffy. But
no I wouldnt retract a word. I guess if it came down to it you
could say that it'll do. Suffice. For the moment where things
appeared at the time they did. It’s always a little difficult living
out vicariously someone elses 'moment of truth'.

I should expect more though from my self. Here’s one from my
own scratch pad on the assemblage of unpackaged chaos that
interrupts the uniformity of my life (Thank God) that I give freely
to wash up like flotsam and jetsam on some long forgotten shore
of the world wide web..like it'll wash up somewhere else and then
I can call that my : pay. Payback. No, wait, what am I crazy? No,
just tired. Very. .

_`-`-``~-`-`--`~


Someone once said that even a collection of a random assortment
of items can contain a certain grain of truth. Or something like that.
I think it was a film maker. But I wish I had marked down his
exact words. Because now I am too tired to remember them.


----



Send email: transmit fax: leave voice message
Painting color schemes on a dial pad
Trying to create musical notes with a computer
keyboard
Writing watercolored landscapes on a black and white newspapered canvas
Why so hopeless...when words fail
Music transcends...so I have no words
Only a volition of my will
An ephemeral soulful massage like vibe encapsulated and wrapped; ensconsed, cocooned.. in feeling disguised as a formless sentient transversal of nothingness spread and sped across the universe that bounces back and hits upon return...just a feeling I guess.

That I hope gets to you. Certain events make me this reflective.
Indulging in moments like this is stretching the universe like an elastic and shooting it across the room still.

Fun for just a while longer till it leaves you still wanting.

But your voice. I knew it. I knew from the trail of my words that echoed unspoken that a truth was seeking to be sought. Somehow someway all along I knew I could never say what was left to be said to the blank of canvas space. I waited for it instead. For the time to arrive where it could take place. Somewhere I lost one of those precious moments in time I think. My quest is probably all about its recovery. Whether it’s actually recovered or not is not important. In tandem keeping with the thought that a journey being more important than the destination.

I get carried away with my own thinking sometimes.
Thinking things like: love should be grand and on a mythical scale
or be nothing at all. Just a thought. Funny how the dips and scales in life reveal to me that at least part of that is true: sometimes it really is nothing at all. But isn’t that kind of disproven everyday by the sheer number of people, blessed may they be, …who have coupled already? Who don’t share that sentiment about love at all?

And there’s no arguing with that. When you finally get tired of me getting the last word in all the time...trying to hook you with that 'famous' last line. Write me.

The event? The event that precipitated this inward dive? Ahh, nothin'. Just a silly movie. After watching all the news and violence of the day..its worth it just to think...man, were still here,,,they’re still here..and at least here we are talking. Its not what everyone does and it shows. Too much.

You know that old hackneyed saying that used to be a popular press idiom: war of the sexes’ or even ‘battle of the sexes’ if you like…its such an insult not only to men and women who have fought in wars or suffered as casualties of it. And to men women and children who are casualties of it today. It belittles the realities of their situations while aggrandizing our own petty disputes and misunderstandings. It subtracts from their harsh realities and shifts it to our own….which by stretches viewed by them they that suffer far worse must be absolutely paradisical. This in turn must make us apathetic, ignorant and unknowing or blind to the suffering of others while being caught up in the trip wires and entanglements largely of our doing.
It does nothing to assauge their pain and suffering. Shutting ones eyes and holding them tightly shut is no solution. Somebody somewhere along the way thought relationships were absolutely everything. Meant positively everything. Were life saving things. Granted, yet somehow this self-absorption and obsession with relationships led to a delineation and sideline of human compassion and obliterated the view of what happens at the outskirts of our Western civilized lives.

The movie I watched was 'The Clearing' with Robert Redford. Very mature theme for a very mature actor. This old meets new clash can still make me discordant. Here’s one segment...a scene from a movie, here’s another segment.. a page from a book..and here’s another ..the actual internet itself
pardoning me to hark and begging me for my time.

It almost seemed like some plain theatric translucence occurred on screen because.. Robert Redford, now having lived a full and hopefully satisfying life portraying characters on screen may be at the point where he gets to be deservedly reflective and can either choose or create roles that allow for that alternating sense of satisfaction/dissatisfaction to purposely shine through.

To me it almost seemed like a love letter and ode and personal crossover from the realm of the nominally pretentious role of Hollywood to even-sell branded emotions so as to spin stories and tell tales…as opposed to giving reign to artistry with un-commercialistic mass appeal…to the intensely personal and private world of a mans true emotions where vulnerability reaches an apex.

After all if you have acted all your life, where do you ever find your redemption? This is the man who practically revolutionized and spawned single handedly the Independent Film industry. Gave it a starting point, nursed it, gave it strength and gave it a home. All hands on deck for the man who almost never made it as a thespian in the first place! Who once almost walked out on acting classes it was so tough yet turned on his heel to stay in it right at that moment where it seemed easiest and most opportune to give up.

I am now disappearing away into the long cold dead remote and exasperating sigh of night.

shelve that book, bookmark that page, pause this VCR, and dream away...seems I cant wait to tell you certain things...too impossible to say so as to disjar, upset and discombobulate the electrons of the internet and tilt their uniformed assemblage and presentation...yet with no
internet...we wouldn’t have ever met..and would I have even dreamed such things as meeting someone like you? If not, doesn’t that make me a fool for thinking I could ever find them on-line and not ‘out there’ instead? Sometimes I wonder..if I traded in everything I wanted in life....traded it in for the want of a click of a mouse. Except nobody has kidnapped me. No one has held me for ransom. But maybe like many others I am held hostage to my own desires though?

I still have that book I want to write. The screen play I want to pen. Time is NOT wasting.

But this is like my ad. The small blurb. If it doesn’t show up here...eventually, nevermind. Do you really want to know? What I miss?

Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

Time is not wasting. It’s waiting. But hell I won’t do it. I won’t give everything I hold dear over to the quick and easiness of the Internet. It still has that quality about it still. Prying eyes mean prying minds. And pried lives leave little leftover to be enjoyed. It has to make it to that delectable unassailably rich printed page first. The Internet can wait. For now. Hopefully, judging by the way you write to me it doesn’t mean forever. But it might. Going back in time now. Going long and going deep as if there were any other way.

Later...

---

Quote:
CNN: Does involving yourself in social issues go hand-in-hand with being a filmmaker, an artist?

REDFORD: Well, yeah it does. It can also be abused. ... I think you have to be careful with that because film is a very powerful medium, and it can be easily abused, so I don't think propaganda works very well.

But on the other hand if you use a fundamental element, just a great story, it can be people in a kitchen in Beirut. They never have to leave that kitchen, and you can tell a very wonderful story, and you can get the whole picture and how they're living, and what the abuses are in their lives.


--

No it doesnt matter if you read this, she reads this or it gets tossed in the trash. The people that need to know the story, know it. But mines my own, whatever worth I attach to it, what it means to other people...what they say...in the end may never matter. Whats important is I do this for my self. Life can be such a crap shoot sometimes its unbearable. So unbearable we are forced to seek truth.

--


Quote:
One of the prevalent themes of The Clearing, which deals with class and privilege, is the fracturing ethos of the so-called American Dream. Here is a story about a self-made man, his public, versus his private, self. Redford dodges discussing parallels between the character and actor, but says that the film reflects a collision of the two American dreams, "his and mine, colliding and then where's the truth? My character was a character adrift. Sometimes you can have success and you work so hard on the basic American dream, but you're not aware of the sacrifices and losses that are occurring along the way." In some way, The Clearing becomes a comment on the nature of celebrity in relation to the American Dream, about which Redford can obviously identify. "I've been interested in much of my career, with the American dream and the ethic of what's achievement, what's success, undersize that and celebrity comes into that," Redford adds.



mach Posted: Sun Nov 14, 2004 7:23 am Post subject: Somewhere they won't look...in the shade

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey girl,

They tell me I can’t write to you. Can’t come around your house or visit your store. Phone you or send you
a fax. How about an email? Well, I don’t want to take the chance. Understand this, I don’t do this because
someone phones me up to me to tell me what I do is illegal. If that were true I wouldn’t have done any of
it. Being homeless is not a crime. Nor is being in love or being lonely. Which of those three was ever I?
Anyway. I don’t dare because I never meant to cause you any discomfort or stress in the first place.

So let’s be fair. I get my self into more trouble for not expressing my self than I do if I don’t. And no one is
going to stop me from expressing what I feel.

It doesn’t matter if it goes into a book, a story, a painting or a picture or a photo or a song or a film. The
urge and desire to create is something often misunderstood and undervalued in contemporary society.

It's always been that way. Vincent Van Gogh as a vaunted example. His works were never appreciated in
his day while his feet were on the earth and while his brush touched the canvas. Only after he died was
he recognized.

I’ll cut it short…

I just had a few things to say so I thought I might as well write. My only last hope being that somehow this
message can find its way to you.

I wanted to say that I was sorry. It’s probably necessary for me to grow as a person. But lets look at it like
this. It would be hard for me to try and truly move on left with the thought that even something as effusive
to grasp as a concept as a virtual relationship is something that can’t be appreciated for what its worth.

What do things mean after they are gone? In this sense, the click of one page to another, the deletion of
an email lend them a sense of impermanence and so then does this mean that they are by design of
delivery that easy to forget?

Or should be? How do we attach value to such non-tangible concepts?

Yet we are always dialed in. Plugged in. No escape from wires of communication. Fax by email, text by
phone, VoiP, what does it all matter? Here in the world of the web, a new concept is born. That of being
first acquainted with the net first, then meeting someone via the net we think we never would have met
prior without it. Someone new.

Yet one ends and the other continues. An online relationship fails. The net is not like any other medium.
Around every corner on the web navigated, around every twisted turn, we still don’t forget. Although the
terrain is all new and virtual, we navigate intuitively groping in the dark for something that feels familiar.

Then out there in the “real” world what do we see? Every other advertisement whether its radio, TV or
print or word of mouth or bumper sticker or sign is begging for a
few seconds from us to commit to
memory another URL we have to visit when we have the time.

And then there’s the news itself. Stories about computers and the Internet often make the news and
sometimes just not in the Tech Section. It’s ubiquitous. From the travel pages to automotive. And then
there’s the TV news. More and more switching between monitors and news clips to show off or
demonstrate a point vis a vis an on-line site. (Filming directly with cameras,
the flickering monitor effect kicks in and we see scanning lines)

So how should I end this?

By saying I am sorry? Well maybe you don’t need to hear that as much as I feel the need to say it.

Having a quasi email relationship with you wasn’t that bad. I guess I just wished I knew what it all meant
to you. Somehow. Some way. I know it went off the rails and I bear the blame. But? You might forgive me
but what if I never end up forgiving my self?

On my last leg! Here I am..I ask you one last thing: can we start over
fresh and anew? From the start of
where we were? The Internet is a brand new tool. Unregulated. We make mistakes along the way. I am
human and I make mistakes. Aren't you glad? For what its worth, I'm sorry the way things ended the way
they did but I am not sorry I ever met you on-line.

I know what’s true. Their trues I’ll never meet another girl like you.
That I may have to yet realize how I blew my
chance will take me some getting used to but if you want me to I will.

Every time I hear this song on the radio I think of you. Every line and every vocal tune seems to speak to
me personally. So what if I call the radio station and say please dedicate
this song to so and so? What if you don’t hear it?
It’s the same thing here: what if I post this message and you don’t read
it?

The fact that I took some time to do some things meant I valued your friendship. And I’m sorry I ruined it.
I’m so sorry. You know you’re part of the reason I thought the net was so cool. It still is. But no where
nearly as much as when it was cool with you for me to write.

So just as long as you know that as long as we are both passing through this world, some of it online
and some not, I may as will tell you: some of it meant something
to me. And I hope it means
something enough to you to remember me when you hear this song..



The Reason

I'm not a perfect person
As many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
Thats why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You [x4]

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you






Seal and Klum get engaged in Whistler


Canadian Press


Wednesday, January 05, 2005



German model Heidi Klum and singer Seal, right, pose on the red carpet prior to a gala in Hamburg in November.(AP Photo/Joerg Sarbach,file)

ADVERTISEMENT



NEW YORK (AP) -- German supermodel Heidi Klum and singer Seal got engaged while enjoying the sights in Whistler, B.C., over the holidays.

"We affianced on a glacier in Whistler (Canada). We reached this beautiful place by helicopter one day before Christmas Eve. It was a unique experience," said a posting on Klum's website.

The ridiculously gorgeous duo began dating last year, shortly after her breakup with Renault Formula One team boss Flavio Briatore, who is the father of her daughter, Leni, born in May.

Klum, 31, who is a Victoria's Secret model and has appeared in Sports Illustrated magazine's swimsuit issue, separated from her husband, celebrity hairstylist Ric Pipino, in November 2002.

In an interview with the New York Post last year, Klum suggested the divorce left her wary about another wedding.

"When I was married it never felt right. I was married for six years. We didn't plan on it only being six years, but that's how it turned out," she said.

"So now I'm not in so much of a hurry to do that. But I definitely want to have more children."

There have been numerous reports that Klum desperately wants a baby with Seal, 41.

The singer's Love's Divine is nominated for a Grammy Award in the male pop vocal competition. His Kiss From a Rose won for record and song of the year, and he also grabbed the award for best male pop vocal performance at the Grammys in 1996.

In recent years, Whistler has become a playground for celebrities and elite snowboarders. Seal has been a frequent visitor to the resort town.

Other high-profile visitors have included Oscar winning actress Hilary Swank, her husband actor Chad Lowe and Princes Charles, William and Harry.

© The Canadian Press 2005
mach1
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Postby rickshaw92 » Mon Jan 10, 2005 5:40 pm

Fuck lad. You got way to much time on your hands.
Im reallly fuclimg pissed but fespite that I can still hit a tarfet at 1000m plus. mayVRVe bnot tonight but it qint beyond the wit if man. Nowhammy.
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Postby mach1 » Thu Feb 03, 2005 7:27 pm

I know and yet here I am sitting on this bar stool talking like a damn fool I got the 5 o'clock news bluuuuuuueeeees

feel the beat : )

_______-__________-__________-__--___--___----__----

and then the long cool stroke of of the electric guitar kicks in with reverbertation on high

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Ive got too much time on my hands too much time on my hands

(too much time on my hands)


Ahh what a song, I wish I hadn't sold my CD collection to pay the rent..I'd be out on the street living in a cardboard box...but hell, at least I'd be happy


Whats that he says? Turn it down, I cant hear what youre saying
..no better yet shut that crap off. We are going to listen to Creed, Nickelback, Pearl Jam the rest of the way there. And if you dont shut up, it's going to be Mettallica at a ear splitting decibel level....now now we have rules against torture. It's called not cool.

-lol, hey dude have a Mars bar
mach1
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Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby Romeo247 » Fri Feb 04, 2005 7:57 pm

THEME TO MASH WITH LYRICS


Through early morning fog I see
The visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld from me
I realise and I can see

Suicide is painless
It brings on any changes
But I can take or leave it if I please

The game of life is hard to play
I’m gonna loose it anyway
But losing cards are some days late
So this is all I have to say

The sword of time will pierce our skin
It doesn’t hurt when it begins
But as it works it’s way on in
The pain grows stronger watch it grin

A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that I keep
Is it to be or not to be
And I reply oh why ask me ?

And you can do the same thing if you please
Whats the #1 cause of divorce?? MARRIAGE
---- Fact
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Romeo247
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Postby mach1 » Tue Jun 21, 2005 11:39 pm

Its like looking at a high school year book photo. Damn.
mach1
Postus Allthefuckingtimeus
 
Posts: 2663
Joined: Tue Mar 30, 2004 4:27 am
Location: right behind her

Postby Ribeye » Fri Jun 24, 2005 7:37 pm

Mach, Maybe it's time for you to get laid, it will clear your head.
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Postby Pam » Tue Jul 05, 2005 8:13 pm

I have to agree with Ribeye

Mach, Maybe it's time for you to get laid, it will clear your head.
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